Goddammit, Tony Tony, goddammit
by WarMachine68
Summary: Number Two Bestseller of the Year. James Rhodes decides to write an autobiography which is mostly focused on his and Tony's friendship, because he wants to make a difference. To show the population that Tony Stark isn't the heartless jerk the people think he is. Please Read and Review!
1. Introductions

**Title: Goddammit, Tony. Tony, goddammit. **

**A/N: The title, as well as the idea, was taken from a Tumblr post. I don't remember the user's name to can credit it, but if it is you who did it, then I have to thank you for such an amazing idea. And credit you, as well. So, yes, as you may already notice, this is a fanfiction book, which means that it is written from Rhodey's POV as his own autobiography.**

**Also, English isn't my mother tongue, and I don't have a beta for this story, so I have to make do with my, well, not-so-poor English skills. However, if you happen to find any glaring mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me about it. **

_~ Dedicated to my mentor and best friend~ _

As a person, I'm awkward when it comes to starting off a new conversation. Writing the introduction of a book isn't an exception, either. But, I guess, that as in each conversation, even if I don't know if anyone's going to read this, but whatever. I should start off with a short presentation of myself. It sounds easier than it truly is, trust me.

Perhaps you already know me. Either from the local channels, or perhaps you've met me personally, in the past. Either way, I will get this first, unimportant part done. My name is James Rupert Rhodes. But more than half of the people that know me, probably you, too, know me as Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes. You know, that short-haired, dark-skinned guy who saves Tony Stark's ass every time? Well, that's me. But, for the purpose of this book, and for the simple fact that not even a single copy's gonna reach a superior's desk, you can call me Jim. Or if you want to do it the Starker's way, you can call me Rhodey.

Sincerely, I don't have the slightest idea why I am actually writing this right now. I'm not a professional when it comes to literacy nor writing something long, especially not a book. Unless it would have been a book about military, wars and such. Then, I would've been a pro. Otherwise, I'm quite a mess when it comes to writing something, especially a book that would, probably, reach billion people's eyes.

Not to mention that this book is supposed to be about me. But, given the fact, that my life wasn't that exciting nor entertaining until I reached a rather mature age, it will turn up being about another person.

You guessed who that person is? No? Alright, then. I will give you a few hints about it.

So, this book is dedicated to a good friend of mine. To a hero. Please, don't let this book reach him, otherwise, I'll never hear the end of it. Let's just keep this between me and you. Well, and my old, barely functional laptop. As well, as the eyes of other billion people. From which, I hope, that friend of mine isn't one of them.

Rings any bells? Yes? Good. You are quite a genius, then.

This book is mostly about that good friend of mine that I've mentioned before. The one that wears that red and gold, ridiculous titanium suit of his. Don't tell him that, either. Yes, the one who's chest is glowing. Or rather, was glowing.

Tony Stark.

He's that mysterious friend of mine. Not really mysterious, but, well, let's just keep it there. For the sake of this book. For now, at least.

Why am I writing this book, and why do I keep it focused on our never ending friendship and not on myself? After all, this is an autobiography. Well, the answer is that, I want the people to see the Tony that I know. Not the snarky, self-centered, heartless and childish man. But, Tony Stark, the kid who could barely carry a stack of books through the campus' hallways. The one that continued his Father's legacy even if he didn't want to. That, perhaps, didn't want to design stuff that blows up and destroy the lives of billion people. Yeah, that kid.

This book isn't about Iron Man. Well, perhaps, we will get to that part, too. But not too soon. This is about Tony Stark, the kid who took over his Father's company at the frail age of twenty-one. That's the Tony I'm going to introduce you to.

And, let me give you a tip; you'll adore him. It's impossible not to. But, keep quiet about that one, too.

With that being said, welcome inside the life of James Rhodes. Welcome to the party.


	2. First Met

**Disclaimer: Oops, I forgot this one in the first chapter. Whatever. I do not own the characters that are mentioned in this story, unless they are names you don't recognize. Such as teacher names and such. Otherwise, Marvel owns every single thing. Aside from the story-line itself, which is my idea. **

**A/N: Please, don't forget to leave a review. It would make my day.**

I guess, this is sort of the beginning of the story. Tony and I's story, I meant. When we first met, we were both in college. Why the hell not. Let's start there.

It was sometime at the end of November of my freshman year. A mechanical engineering and flight combat major, who detested school and the school's campus more than everything else in the world. M.I.T was never a college that went on my list of choices. Far from it. Mainly because of the taxes that my family should have paid only to have me go in.

I'm from Philadelphia, and I'm the youngest son from a four children family. I have to older brothers and one sister. My father died when I was around five years old, which meant that I was left in the care of my freshly widowed Mother. I guess you can already imagine how hard it was for her to maintain four children by her own. I could have never afforded to go in to a college, much less to M.I.T if I hadn't studied. But I did.

But, I suppose, I should get back to the point now.

As I mentioned previously, I detested school. Not because of the masses of homework, but because of the students that went there. Most of them, were children of famous, or at least, rich families; who spent their whole lives in luxury, and who'd be able to scream out loud if they scrapped their finger. I wasn't one of them. I knew what work meant ever since I was sixteen. I didn't had a nanny as a child, nor did I travel all around the world, not even the country. I was just a normal, Philadelphia guy.

But, being poor wasn't my only issue. I was black, too. And, given the fact that I went to college in the early 80's, the black people weren't the whites favorites. Much less if they were poor, too. So, I had two contras from the very beginning, and I lacked any pro.

That was until I met the college's prodigy.

I had just moved in the college's campus, and of course, I had a roommate. His name was Freddie, and he was one of the few students that didn't glare at me on the corridors, nor in the room we shared, only because I was black and poor. He soon became my only friend there, but after a couple of weeks, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer, and he couldn't continue his studies any longer. Which meant, that he had to leave the campus, too. Much to my displeasure.

Freddie was my only friend there. The only one who didn't judge me because of my skin color, and obviously, I was sad that he had to leave, and that he was sick, of course.

A couple of days after his leave, I was informed that I will have a new roommate. Again, much to my displeasure. I didn't want a new roommate, I was just fine on my own. The last thing I needed nor wanted, was to be bullied inside the room where I lived. Of course, I was already planning to pack my stuff and find a job in the neighborhood, where I could work, so I'd have enough money to rent a flat for myself. That would have probably been the easiest way, anyway.

The day when my roommate was supposed to move in I was exempted from the daily classes, so I could have some bond time with my new roommate. I can still remember that I was huffing and, literally, fuming the whole day. Bonding time? Who were they kidding? There won't be anyone who'd want to have a black guy in his group of friends. The only 'bonding' that could result that day would be a trip to the infirmary; resulting with my new roommate having a black eye.

But, those where my thoughts before I met my new roommate.

It was a couple of minutes after twelve, the lunch time, when a stack of book opened the door. No, I'm not kidding. My first reaction when the door opened was to say that a stack of books is walking. _Walking_. Now, that was weird.

Being the educated guy I was, I immediately shot up from my own bed and went to help the 'walking stack of books', as I called the person behind the science books. As soon as I removed the books from the other guy's hands, I, literally, gaped at the sight.

The fourteen years old boy in front of me had almost round, and obviously big, chocolate-colored eyes. He was one of the few boys that were blessed with an almost perfect skin even as a teenager. He wore black-rimmed reading glasses, and strangely, I found that cute. Probably, because they were nearly falling off his nose due to the fact that, most likely, he rested his chin on the stack of books until he reached the right room.

His hair was dark brown, and if the room was dim lighted, I could have sworn that it was jet black. A couple of rebel curls of wavy hair hang over his forehead, and I noticed how he tried to push them back by puffing in their direction. That only added to the cute effect he had on me. No, don't get me wrong. I was, and I am, a straight guy one hundred percent, but the child in front of me stirred something inside of my chest that I couldn't explain.

Perhaps, because I have heard who he is, and how young he got into college. That was unnatural. In a way, I envied the child, because he'd finish college faster than me. Well, not faster, but at a more frail age. On the other side, I could only imagine how hard it was for him to get through school that fast. And that was quite visible.

I wasn't born yesterday, I could see the sadness behind these chocolate-colored eyes of his. A type of sadness that I didn't feel myself, and I had a lot of things to worry about. I caught his scoff, and I can recall that I blinked a couple of times – feeling more than shocked and surprised. But the shock that overtook me once he opened his mouth couldn't be described.

"Could you please stop staring at me? It's not that I'm from Mars, or anything. Nor am I going to eat you."

I'm grinning now, because I remember how he shocked me twice in less than five minutes. Back then, I was surprised – unable to form a full sentence, due to the fact that someone managed to shock me _twice_, in such a short time. Now, I can only grin, because I know that it was the first, but not the last, time when I was shocked by Tony Stark.


	3. Your Grumpy-ness

**Disclaimer: Again, I do not own any of the characters from this story. Aside from the names that you don't recognize, which could be some of the OC's names I came up with. Otherwise, the rights go to Marvel.**

**A/N: Woah, five reviews on only two chapters? You guys rock! Also, I'm sorry for the delay, but I'm kinda stuck on my mobile phone for a good while, so I won't be able to update that often. But, I will update whenever I got the chance. **

** Chapter Three: Your Grumpy-ness **

I can easily recall that the first week as Tony Stark's roommate went smoothly. For a genial kid he was, I expected him to be popular around the campus, but he wasn't. Surely, everyone knew who he was, but he didn't had a lot of friends.

Not from what I knew. And I didn't knew too much about him.

Shortly after he had moved in the same room, he had set some well-defined rules. You see, the campus' rooms weren't luxurious. Far from it. There were two bunk beds with metallic edges and headboards. The campus also offered a change of light blue sheets for the newcomers. Those sheets should keep you four years, if not, then you'd have to buy yourself new ones. Surely, I already had my own sheets, the one my Mother almost forced me to take.

"_You don't need their pity, Jim."_

Her words still echoed through my ears. Those were the words that she told me while I was packing my stuff for college. I could easily tell that she was proud of me and what I achieved with the help of my brain. I wasn't a genius. Not at all, I might say. But I gave my best in school and always had good grades. Still, that's not the point now.

The point is how I learned to know the history behind the college's prodigy.

The first time I had a conversation with Tony Stark was two weeks before the Christmas vacation. While everyone was chatting about their future plans for the Christmas, I could sense that my roommate felt at unease. I couldn't blame him. The kid didn't had a single friend in the whole campus. He always sat alone, at the table beside the window, in the lunch period, and then when he finished eating, he'd head straight out of the lunch room. Later, during the lunch period, you could find him somewhere in a corner with a book cradled between his arms and knees.

I couldn't understand why the kid didn't had a single friend. Heck, even _I _was able to make a friend. His name was Jackson and he was black, too. He was a mathematics and computer engineering major, and I remember that he mentioned something about the Prodigy being in the same class with him at the engineering classes. From what I can recall, Jackson was kind of cocky and grumpy, sometimes. Correction; most of the time. But, with me, he was...fine. He wasn't rude or anything. Maybe since we shared the same skin color. Whatever.

Moving on.

I recall that it was a Friday night when I finally decided to attempt and have a small talk with the college's prodigy. I had made my return from a game of basketball with Jackson, and after I paid a visit to the showers room, I headed back to my dorm. I remember that I had greeted my roommate and was greeted in return with a muffled 'hi'. The kid definitely had some issues.

This memory is still fresh in my mind.

I recall that I threw my overly used notebook on the upper bed, which happened to be _my _bed. It had been my bed ever since the beginning when I shared the room with Freddie. Since he couldn't bare sleeping up on the top bed, he gave it to me, and to be truthful, I appreciated that. I've always been fond of high places.

"So," I remember that I began, taking a seat at the feet of my roommate's bed. I could easily see his eyebrows lift from over the book that he was holding, and I had to snicker quietly. The kid was _really _weird. "Watcha doing for Christmas, mate?"

Apparently, I didn't chose the right subject to make a small talk about since I could easily feel his glare on my temple, but I ignored it. I didn't show that it made me feel uncomfortable. I hid it. Even more, I made myself comfortable and climbed in the bed, too, only that I settled myself at the headboard from the bed's feet.

"Are you trying to get out a life history out of me, or what?" His harsh reply shocked me, and I could easily recall that my eyes widened involuntarily at his words. For a fourteen years old kid, who was in college, he held the harshness and bluntness of an over twenty years old man. "You could always pick up the college's magazine and read it over if that's what you want to know."

"Look, mate," At addition of his, I was practically huffing and I made sure to show it through a meaningful glare. "I was just trying to bond with you. We've been sharing a room for a month now and the only thing that I have ever heard you speak was, 'The milk is in the fridge', or 'We need more milk'. I was just trying to be friendly, so I'm sorry if I disturbed you, _your Grumpy-ness_."

I heard him sigh as I took a hold of the bed's ladder and climbed into my own bed. Five minutes later, I heard the book that he was holding closing with a loud thump and then I've seen that the light that was above his head faded slowly until it darkened completely. Now, the only light in the room was the one from my bed. So, I decided to shut it, too, as I pulled the duvet over me.

"I'm staying here for Christmas," I heard a small voice come from the bed beneath mine and I tilted my head sidewards toward the bed's frame before I leaned my neck over it enough to catch a glimpse of my grumpy roommate.

"You're what?" I asked, both of my brows were lifted somewhere near my hair-line at that point. That was impossible. From what I've heard around the campus, nobody remained here. Which meant, the warmth will be cut as soon as the students gathered their stuffs and left for the two weeks long Christmas vacation.

"I don't have where else to go." If that was possible, his voice grew even smaller as he peered his eyes up from underneath his blanket. His own blanket was tucked underneath his chin, and even pulled up until it covered his mouth and nose, too. He looked as a Smurf, only that he wasn't blue.

"Don't you have a family?" I asked again, and leaned even more over the bed's frame as I looked down at him.

"Well," I heard him shifting in his bed and I saw as he crawled out from underneath the warmth of his blankets and his hand gripped the ladder's rail. I could see that he mentally calculated if the ladder was safe enough for him to climb onto, and I chuckled quietly at his facial expression.

"C'mon, _I _can climb that ladder and it didn't broke 'til now. And you're half my weight." That was true. The kid was slim – skinny, even. I could easily encircle his wrist with two fingers. He was definitely under weighted.

"Well," He began once again, as he was settled at the foot of my bed, and I prompted myself on an elbow to can look at him. "You asked why I'm staying here." I nodded a little and he sighed as he folded his arms in front of his chest.

"My Mother, and Father, are gone out of the town – New York, I mean – for some kind of Christmas party. Obviously, they don't need a fourteen years old prodigy to stick after them as a puppy's tail." That made me chuckle lightly, and he did the same, something that surprised me. I've never heard him chuckle before.

"The only one left home is Jarvis, the family's butler, and he clearly doesn't have the authority to write a ticket to get me out of here." I totally forgot, since he was a minor, he was in the college's custody for the period he was their student. Which meant, he could only get out of here if someone – an adult, wrote a ticket for him, in which they'd say that they'd take him in their custody. Tricky, isn't it?

"So, I guess you've got your answer now," He continued with a slight smile, then the smile faded and his chocolate-brown eyes cast downwards as if the bed's sheets were the most interesting thing he had ever seen. As if. "Also, I'm sorry for being rude earlier. Everyone's just looking forward finding out how it is to be that smart." He rolled his eyes and I nodded my forgiveness as an idea swirled through my mind.

"Hey," At that, he looked up at me and I smiled slightly. "What about we get it straight from the beginning?" His eyes betrayed his confusion, but his curiosity, too. I shifted forward a little bit, my own blanket coming down in my lap into a mess. Well, I'll straighten it up later.

"I'm James Rupert Rhodes," I said, holding out my hand for a proper handshake. "I'm a mechanical engineering and flight combat major."

As if on cue, he immediately took my hand in his and gave it a firm handshake. For how tiny he was, the kid obviously had some strength in there. "Anthony Edward Stark, but you better call me Tony," Both of us chuckled at his little joke. "I'm a computer engineering and physics major."

That was the night when a friendship blossomed between the two of us, and I could never take that memory out of my mind. I could never forget the tiny kid that slept beneath me in college, nor the period when I used to call him 'Your Grumpy-ness'. Those were our first memories together, the beginning of a lot of other good memories. But, we'll get to those, too. In a while.


End file.
